


The Scientific Method

by JustAWritingAmateur



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-12 23:28:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3359273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAWritingAmateur/pseuds/JustAWritingAmateur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So I am correct in assuming you wanted me to follow you?” Ishizu walked up to him, her voice dropping to a velvet whisper, heart in her throat.  Seto matched her tone, trying to keep his voice even as she came to within an inch of him: “Yes.  That was rather the point, Ishizu.”  Pegasus hosts a party, Seto needs a plus-one, and shenanigans occur.  For All and Sundry, SxI postseries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hypothesis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [All_and_Sundry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/All_and_Sundry/gifts).



The pale red envelope arrived at Kaiba Manor one sunny April afternoon, addressed simply in an elegant, curving hand, to Seto Kaiba, Kaiba Manor, Domino City; once it arrived it bounced around several desks, was the subject of several confused phone calls to higher-ups, until it landed in the lap of none other than Seto Kaiba, where it was hastily picked up by suspicious fingers and torn open rather savagely, because how in the hell did this envelope make it past security with no return address…?

What the hell..?

Something painfully sweet clogged his nostrils as he tossed the envelope to the ground dismissively and unfolded the parchment-like stationery. It’s scented…?

As soon as he read the embossed letterhead, he scoffed loudly and allowed the piece of paper to flutter to the floor, trying to figure out what kind of sick joke the white-haired bastard was playing, the sudden motion drawing the attention of Mokuba, who, as per usual, sat in front of Seto’s office television, numbing his not-unimpressive mind with god knows what.

“Big brother? You okay?” Mokuba pressed a button on the remote, pausing whatever asinine cartoon he was watching, before hopping off the couch and making his way over to Seto’s desk, where his brother looked like he’d caught a whiff of spoiled milk.

“What’s--” Mokuba knelt quickly on the floor and gathered up the pieces of paper, nearly gagging as the smell wafting off the folded paper hit him in the face. “Ew… that’s gross!” 

Seto cut his eyes sharply towards his brother. “You don’t need to look at that, Mokuba--” 

Mokuba’s eyes scanned the paper furiously. “It’s from Pegasus!”

“That’s why I said you didn’t need to look at it. It’s clearly worthless.”

Mokuba continued reading, ignoring his brother’s dismissals. “Dear Seto Kaiba, your presence is requested at the humble home of Maximillion Pegasus in honor of the fifth anniversary of the Duelist Kingdom Tournament…” He looked up at Seto, eyes suddenly lost in a memory, half-buried over time. “That was five years ago, huh, big brother…” 

What is he playing at, the sick fuck? Seto’s mouth formed a thin, hard line at the memory of the Duelist Kingdom Tournament and all that had transpired--Mokuba being kidnapped during Seto’s absence; the confrontation with Pegasus, leading to Seto having to watch, watch helplessly as the life left his brother’s eyes, somehow--for Seto refused to believe in the so-called “magic” of the Millennium Items--trapped inside a card; the duel against Yugi, Seto reeling internally as cruel gusts of wind latched onto his coat, nearly making good on his threat; the humiliating duel against Pegasus himself, and then--cold. White light and darkness. Nothing. A faint scream ringing in his ears. And then--

And then he was himself again, and holding his weeping brother in his arms, safe and sound.

Needless to say, Seto Kaiba did not harbor any particularly sentimental feelings towards the Duelist Kingdom Tournament--or towards its host, for that matter.

Mokuba, on the other hand… “The gathering is to take place on the 3rd of May. As an honored invitee, you are encouraged to bring one guest of your choosing. Black tie is recommended. Yours ever, Maximillion Pegasus…” 

He stood up and looked at his brother, eyes widening in excitement. “Are you going to go, big brother?” 

Seto rolled his eyes. “Are you serious, Mokuba?”

Mokuba grinned impishly. “A black tie party? Sounds like it could be fun!”

Seto threw back his head and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, already feeling a headache coming on--from the nearly putrid floral smell emitting from the invitation, threatening to poison his whole office, or from the mere thought of Pegasus--he wasn’t quite sure. “Mokuba… once you’ve gone to enough of these black tie affairs, they cease to be fun. Also, and perhaps, more to the point, this is Pegasus we’re talking about here; you know, the megalomaniac who kidnapped you and trapped your soul inside a card?”

Mokuba shuddered slightly at the memory, but failed to let it cloud his sunny demeanor. “I mean, he’s not a bad guy, Seto-- he had a good reason…”

“Yeah, because he wanted to create a living hologram of his dead wife, like that’s not totally creepy.” Seto leaned forward and snatched the invitation out of Mokuba’s hands, studying the impeccable calligraphy on the heavy cream-colored paper. “Besides, it’s not like I have a guest I could bring to this thing, anyway…”

He paused at the sight of Mokuba’s sudden devilish expression, nearly breaking out in a cold sweat. “Mokuba? No.” 

Mokuba cackled demonically and reached for the phone on Seto’s desk, grabbing both the handset and the base so Seto couldn’t reach it from where he sat. “Aw, come on, big brother--it’d be so much fun for you!”

Seto rolled his eyes, attempting to detract from the blush creeping onto his cheeks. “Are you serious, Mokuba? We can’t manage a civil conversation for more than, perhaps, a few minutes at a time before she starts one of her ridiculous ramblings about the damned Pharaoh and destiny and, apparently, that I was some damned high Priest back in Ancient Egypt, because that’s not totally ludicrous…” His voice trailed off as he ran out of steam.

That blasted woman, that damned infuriating woman… she’s ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. I’d be out of my mind if I invited her. 

There’s not even a guarantee she would go with me, anyway...

Mokuba dangled the phone from his fingers teasingly, watching his older brother plop his elbows onto his desk and bury his face in his hands out of what seemed to be pure aggravation.

“Besides,” he heard Seto mutter under his breath, “it’s not like I know whether she’s in town or not…”

Mokuba stuck out his tongue. “A-ha! You were thinking about it! You liiiiike her, you wanna take her to the party…” and here he brandished the phone as Seto lifted his head abruptly, breathless, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face. “Besides,” cooed Mokuba jeeringly, “we could just call the Museum and find out for ourselves…”

Seto blanched, rising from his seat in a futile effort to stop his brother from embarrassing him past the point of sanity. “Mokuba, you really don’t need to--”

Mokuba already had run a search on the phone’s Internet browser for the switchboard number for the Domino Museum and was holding the phone against his ear by the time his brother reached him; though Seto’s legs were longer, Mokuba was quite fast, and so when he felt his brother’s fingers reach out towards him, hoping to grab onto his vest, he darted through the double doors of Seto’s office and into the long hallway, Seto clenching his fists and pausing at the doorway; while Mokuba had free reign to run down the hallway and act a fool, as the CEO, Seto could not exactly afford to follow suit, as several of his associates had offices off this hallway. Remind me to fire them, he thought hotly as Mokuba danced around in the middle of the hallway, hopping from one foot to the other as the phone rang. 

“Hello? This is Mokuba Kaiba from the Kaiba Corporation; may I please speak with Dr. Ishtar?” Mokuba’s eyes grew round as the person on the line responded; then his eyes narrowed and his mouth stretched into an impossibly wide grin as he continued. “Ah, that would be great! I can hold.” 

Fuck. Seto gritted his teeth, glaring daggers at Mokuba as the teen paced in loopy concentric circles on the carpeted floor, taking occasional moments to stick his tongue out at Seto, who was essentially helpless in this case. Then--

“Hi, Ishizu! How’ve you been?” Seto’s ears turned red at the faint hum of a reply he could just barely hear that was boring into Mokuba’s ear. Her voice... 

If he goes through with this, I just might kill him…

Mokuba smiled even wider and replied, “Yeah, things are pretty cool here. How long are you in town?” A pause as he awaited the response, Seto seething all the while, face running through a full heated spectrum of colors as his hands started to shake. 

Mokuba winked at him. “Oh, you’ve accepted a permanent position in Domino? That’s great news!”

Seto gnawed at his lip in near agony, knowing what was to come next--

“Well, you see, I kind of have a favor to ask you… No, no, it’s not for school. You see, Seto’s gotten an invitation to some swanky party on May third? Pegasus is throwing it, actually--you know Pegasus, right? And he’s supposed to bring a guest…”

Please. Allow the Earth to swallow me up now… 

“And he’s too shy to ask you, but I’m not--he wants to know if you’ll be his plus-one…”

Any time now…

Mokuba waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Seto upon hearing her response. “Yeah, I know-- I don’t know why he’s being so shy about this.... Ah! That’s great news, Ishizu--thank you so much! ...Yeah, yeah, it’s black tie, he’ll pick you up at the museum around-- oh, or he could pick you up at your place, that works, too--”

Ishizu’s place… Seto gulped, thinking of all the things that were surely in her place.

Like her bed…

Ugh, not now, now now… 

“You’ll email me the address? Perfect!” Mokuba’s endlessly chipper, faux-innocent voice cut through the half-aborted reverie. “My email’s ‘m kaiba at kaibacorp dot org’… ha, I know, original, right? I wanted to make it more personalized and cool, but Seto said no…”

I could literally die right now and not regret it that much…

“Okay, then, Ishizu! He’ll pick you up at around… five? I know that’s early, but you’ve gotta fly to Pegasus’ island and everything--yeah, great talking to you too! Let’s get lunch sometime… haha, no, Ishizu, that’s Seto’s gig…”

Seto colored brighter, feeling his teeth clatter together as a sudden chill ran almost violently through him. The hell… what’s my “gig”? I’m literally going to kill him as soon as he hangs up; I don’t care who sees...

“Aaaanyway, he’ll see you soon! Byeee!” Mokuba hung up the phone and gazed up at his brother, attempting to seem endearing, cute, harmless, even, as Seto attempted to calm down, calm his anger and his sudden damned excitement over the prospect of seeing her, seeing Ishizu after what must have been at least a year, maybe longer…

Still, though, Mokuba had no damned business doing what he did--making me look like a fool, insinuating things about me to her…

… To hell with propriety. Seto crossed the threshold of his office and strode towards his brother, towering over the boy, and crossing his arms in an attempt to appear menacing.

Mokuba’s eyes grew impossibly wide; his body language was sheepish as he attempted to hide the phone behind his back, as if that would possibly help to conceal his crime. “Um? Big brother? Your face is all scary and dark…”

“I’m going to kill you, Mokuba. You’d best start running.” And with that, Mokuba was already further down the hallway, a bullet from a gun, hopelessly pounding the button to call the elevator, anything to escape the slow, glowering wrath of his brother as Seto followed him down the hallway, pretending to crack his knuckles for effect.

“Mokuba, you’re so lazy… if you’re trying to escape someone, never attempt to use the elevator…” Seto couldn’t hide a sardonic chuckle from creeping into his voice. 

Oh, what the hell. It couldn’t possibly be that awful...right?

“What’s her address?”

He sighed deeply, resignedly as his brother began to giggle, utterly proud of himself and his risky actions. Big brother’s going on a daaaaaaaate…

\--

The phone on Ishizu Ishtar’s desk, buried as it was under a pile of forms, rang, the tinny priiing cutting through the quietude of the office. 

She sighed, putting aside the notes she’d been making on a potential acquisition-- a rather nice collection of ushabtiu from the Seventeenth Dynasty-- and felt around for the phone, sifting through endless sheets, hoping to avoid a papercut, before her hand brushed against it.

She placed it to her ear-- “Dr. Ishtar speaking--” and heard the switchboard operator ask in reply, “I have Mokuba Kaiba on hold. Should I page him through?”

Mokuba Kaiba… Ishizu called into her mind the image of the small, black-haired boy… though, of course, he’d be not quite so small now--it’s been nearly two years, after all…

“Yes, of course, please page him through…”

… Two years since she’d laid eyes on the youth’s older brother. Seto Kaiba. Upon thinking of that name, those syllables, a slight blush colored her cheeks. When they’d last met, it had been in Egypt as they both watched the Pharaoh Atem remember his name, lose to Yugi in the final duel, and return to the afterlife, leaving behind a fount of tears in his wake... 

Of course, as soon as that had occurred, Seto had utterly disavowed what he’d surely seen, citing it as a hallucination, a trick of the light, anything to keep himself sane, his grip on the world as he understood it, had to understand it in order to make sense of things, of his life… 

And before that. In Battle City. When he’d given her the ultimate hope--that her brother could be saved, that fates could be changed… she was endlessly grateful to him for that, despite the rather rude way he’d gone about winning their duel…

That boy… or, rather, Ishizu reasoned, if Mokuba was now nearly a man, then Seto had to be--fully a man? She chuckled under her breath at the thought, then swallowed hard as she thought what that sort of description entailed. For although Ishizu considered herself a logical, rational being, she’d found that she fairly unraveled under that ice-blue gaze, as things she did not want to consider distracted her from her tasks.

Mokuba’s voice crackled through the line, as bright and chipper--slightly out of breath--as his older brother was sour and sardonic. “Hi, Ishizu! How’ve you been?”

Ishizu smiled to herself--talking to Mokuba could surely improve anyone’s day, hers included--and replied, “I’m quite good, and yourself? You’re doing well?”

“Yeah, things are pretty cool here. How long are you in town?” 

What a strange question…? “I mean, I’m here permanently, one hopes. I’ve been installed as the official head of the Antiquities Department at the Domino Museum…”

Mokuba sounded immensely pleased at this fact. “Oh, you’ve accepted a permanent position in Domino? That’s great news!” Why was he repeating her words this way--announcing them to, perhaps, some third party on his end…?

Her breath caught on itself. Seto…?

She remembered someone was on the line, waiting for her to speak. “T-thank you, Mokuba. I’m quite pleased with the position thus far… did you need something, or did you just call to check on my employment status?” This last bit came out perhaps a bit more wryly than intended. 

“Well, you see, I kind of have a favor to ask you…”

Aha. Therein lay the rub, perhaps? “Something for your classes? I could help arrange a tour, perhaps a viewing of the upcoming Hatshepsut exhibition?”

Mokuba replied quickly, hastily, “No, no, it’s not for school. You see, Seto’s gotten an invitation to some swanky party on May third? Pegasus is throwing it, actually--you know Pegasus, right? And he’s supposed to bring a guest…” Mokuba’s voice trailed off, the unspoken suggestion weighing on his tone. 

Ishizu blushed hard then, scarcely believing her ears. What is the boy saying?

Dare I even imagine?

Mokuba continued, voice becoming cheeky. “And he’s too shy to ask you, but I’m not--he wants to know if you’ll be his plus-one…”

This I did not expect.

Ishizu nearly dropped the phone, the wind knocked out of her, almost giggling with mirth. Seto Kaiba, asking me to accompany him to a party? Gods, I must be in a strange dream… 

“Mokuba, you’re sure he wants to invite me? It’s not as if we are exactly friends--why didn’t he simply call me himself instead of using you as the messenger?” 

“Yeah, I know-- I don’t know why he’s being so shy about this....”

Ishizu bit her lip, grinning at the thought of a blushing, shy Seto Kaiba being all irritable and yet strangely endearing. “Well, Mokuba, you’ve certainly pled his case well. I’d be happy to attend Pegasus’ party with your brother.”

Mokuba sounded positively elated. “Ah! That’s great news, Ishizu--thank you so much!”

“It’s my pleasure, Mokuba.” Ha. She fumbled around for her day planner and a pen; she jotted down the date, circling it several times. “That’s the Saturday the third… Is there a dress code?” Knowing Pegasus, likely ball gowns and waistcoats for everyone…

“Yeah, yeah, it’s black tie, he’ll pick you up at the museum around--”

Ishizu cut him off. “I don’t live at the museum, Mokuba--he could, perhaps, pick me up at my home.” She hoped her burgeoning excitement at her own idea hadn’t leaked into her voice. To have Seto Kaiba at her home… alone...gods. 

What I would like to happen… she didn’t dare to let her thoughts linger there. 

Mokuba paused, seemingly considering the implications--or was Ishizu overthinking things? “Oh, or he could pick you up at your place, that works, too…” 

“Do you have a piece of paper? Or I could email you my home address,” Ishizu let out a tiny sigh of relief, relief that Mokuba Kaiba hadn’t seemed

“You’ll email me the address? Perfect!” Mokuba exclaimed on the other end, once again as if he were repeating her words for a third party’s benefit--at this point, Ishizu had to assume it was Seto. “My email’s ‘m kaiba at kaibacorp dot org’…”

“Creative,” Ishizu quipped, writing the address down next to the date in her planner. 

“Ha, I know, original, right? I wanted to make it more personalized and cool, but Seto said no…” The boy sounded faux-petulant; it didn’t take much effort to imagine Seto seething at Mokuba’s efforts to set the two of them up on--on a date, such as it was…

“Well, that seems like it will work out, Mokuba. What time should I be ready by?” She began running through the contents of her closet in her mind. Black tie… I surely have something.

Perhaps something a little more… visually interesting than simple black tie? She felt a flutter in her lower belly as she pictured it-- Seto, transfixed, unable to rip his eyes from her, licking his lips as he considered her...

Mokuba’s voice startled her briefly. “Okay, then, Ishizu! He’ll pick you up at around… five?”

“Five?” That’s quite an early hour for a black tie event...

“I know that’s early, but you’ve gotta fly to Pegasus’ island and everything…” Ah, yes. That strange man-- I’d forgotten he lived on his own private island…

Ishizu cleared her throat and glanced at her desk clock. “Well, Mokuba, I do have to get back to work… it was lovely speaking with you.”

“Yeah, great talking to you too! Let’s get lunch sometime!”

Here Ishizu chuckled aloud. “Mokuba, you’d best not be trying to flirt with me. You’re, what, barely eighteen?” 

Mokuba returned her mirth, laughter burbling under his voice. “Haha, no, Ishizu, that’s Seto’s gig…”

“Seto’s gig”? Ishizu was glad she had a private office, so vivid and heated were the two spots of crimson on her cheeks. Seto-- flirting with me? He’s never...I--I don’t quite understand… could Mokuba mean that… 

Ishizu could imagine the downright mischievous look gracing the younger boy’s features as Mokuba continued, ““Anyway, he’ll see you soon! Bye!” 

“Goodbye, Mokuba.” She heard an abrupt dial tone on her end and, with a slightly shaking hand, dropped the phone onto her desk, a not entirely unpleasant feeling rising throughout her body, rendering her nearly breathless at the thought--Seto Kaiba in a suit--a tuxedo, no less--she pictured him standing at her doorway, looking delightfully cross and startled by her beauty… after all, Ishizu knew she cleaned up well, and could only imagine what kind of figure he’d cut in black tie wear…

Gods. The butterflies in her stomach refused to cease, her anticipation rising; she licked her lips and tried in vain to settle herself into her seat, return to her ushabtiu notes, and wait--only ten days away.

I do hope I can survive that long...

\--

The limousine pulled up to the nondescript series of brownstones in one of the more upper-middle-class areas of Domino City, the gentle amber streetlights punctuating the dimming sky with a strange glow. 

Seto slouched in the backseat, legs crossed loosely, all black-clad limbs and characteristic sneer, trying to mask his ridiculous nervousness with overly casual body language. He swept his eyes over the building, seeking out her apartment number, trying to keep calm, keep calm as he thought of her, her getting ready, waiting, perhaps standing at the window, seeking car headlights, that exquisite line of her neck, her gentle hands… fuck--stop. Not now. Not this again--

He took a breath to steel himself as Roland announced, perhaps a tad unnecessarily, “we’re here, sir.”

As Seto exited the car and walked up the steps to her door, he realized, all too late, that he might have wanted to bring flowers. Or something--something that adults did when they went on dates--no, no, this is not a date, this is merely her accompanying me to a stupid shindig I don’t even want to attend-- he pressed the doorbell, then cursed himself for not knocking; how rude of him, how stupid of him--

He had to fight to keep his jaw from dropping as she answered the door; the first thing he noticed was the dangling black pearl earring she was hastily adjusting, which led him to that jawline, her mouth, painted a dark red, and then--those eyes--dark blue-green, a stormy sea, not surprised to see him but pleased, warm, almost. “Hello, Seto Kaiba--please, please, come in, I won’t be much more than a moment…” Seto gulped, finding it impossible not to look at her--her black crepe dress, brushing against the floor--don’t think about her legs--the way it flowed from her hips, conformed to her slim waist, the neckline--the neckline--he could see a faint hint of cleavage as the two straps of the dress met somewhere behind her neck; a tiny black pearl, a match to the earrings, resting in the hollow of her throat… 

He nearly forgot himself there for a moment. Then:

“Ah. Yes. G-good evening, Ishizu.” Stiffly. Coldly. Damn it all to hell. 

Seeing him standing on her doorstep, all dressed up, dark hair falling into his eyes, looking so deliciously bored--and yet nervous, somehow, as if both emotions were possible to display at one--did things to her--did things to her--her skin reeling from his proximity, and she couldn’t help but notice the slow path his gaze took as he considered her, judged her; she fixed that earring and stepped aside, allowing him access to her living room, wishing she’d had the time or the inclination to straighten it up…

“If you’ll please wait here, I’ll be down in a minute.” She gestured to a stuffed reclining chair; he sat, attempting to figure out what to say--this is her home. Her home--she’s let me inside… he followed her with his eyes, the sound of her bare feet practically tickling his ears, as she ran up the narrow staircase towards the back of the living room, towards her damned bedroom, lifting her dress so that she didn’t trip, and collapsed back into the plushness of the chair as soon as she was out of sight.

Fuck. This is going to be a long night…

Ishizu caught her balance as she reached the top of the stairs, catching her breath--he’s in my home. He’s in my home. I ought to have offered him something to drink… As she crossed the threshold of her bedroom, it was like she was seeing it through new eyes--past the still-unpacked boxes littering the floor, past the pile of dresses she’d cast aside as she’d sought out the perfect one, the one that would elicit that reaction; in that, at least, she’d managed some success--all she could notice was her bed. The things people did in beds--things gasped out, moaned, hushed voices, sighing in ears, lips and hips moving together, hoarse cries--she did not want to think of this now, not like this, not with him sitting there in her living room so temptingly; tempting by the very nature of it being him; she nearly wanted to rush down the stairs in a blaze of heat, snarl “forget the party" against his lips, and have him right there on that reclining chair, then in her bed… 

She paused before the mirror, willing the fire in her cheeks to cool--or at least return to the low simmer she’d carried with her all day--studying the way her dress hung on her body, the slick black of her eyeliner, before scrabbling under the pile of dress for her low heels, a matching handbag, reached for her cell phone on her bed--done. 

She caught her breath, and then lost it again as she reached the top of the stairs; as if supernaturally attuned to her presence, his eyes lifted to her and widened slightly, heart suddenly careening around his chest; fuck, she looks… 

It was such a cliched moment, the boy waiting for the girl, all gussied up in her fancy dress, to descend the stairs, so they both pointedly chose to ignore it. 

She reached the bottom of the stairs and strode over to where he sat, voice perfectly composed and no-nonsense; “ready?” 

He was breathless. She was perfection. 

\--

It took him everything he’d had to stop himself from leaning across the armrest and kissing those lips, hand flying to her shoulder to pull her in closer, closer, so that her hypnotic eyes couldn’t escape the need crying out in his, need he hoped to god would be returned. 

He could imagine, could feel the satisfying weight of her on his lap as if she’d sat there before and ground her hips against his--like a dream half-remembered.

Ishizu spoke first as the limousine silently pulled away from her apartment and through darkening streets--where to, she didn’t exactly know-- “I do suppose I ought to have asked this earlier, but, um, how are we getting to Pegasus’ island?” 

Fair question. Here Seto cut his eyes away from the window, fixing her in his gaze, a smirk appearing on that dangerous face. “I’m flying us, of course.” He’d been dying for another excuse to use the Blue Eyes White Dragon jet; this occasion, unplanned as it was, would be a perfect opportunity to let the beast stretch its wings, as it were.

Ishizu raised an eyebrow, made curious by this announcement, his cocky confidence. “I didn’t know you flew planes, Seto.” What other secrets are you hiding, hmm?

Seto leaned towards her; she reflexively leaned back, because she knew if he got too close, she would very likely attempt to mount him in the backseat, rub against him like a classless teenager…

“Well, Ishizu…” He studied her trembling lips, her wide eyes, flushed cheeks and knew--guessed--something released within him, and a lazy half-smile curved on his features, he formulating a hypothesis to be tested continuously throughout the night. “There’s quite a lot you don’t know about me…” Take the bait, such that it is…?

Ishizu bit her lip--I’m not going to take that the wrong way-- then turned her head away quickly, hoping he wouldn’t notice--oho, but he had. Seto drummed his fingers on the armrest and continued. “Additionally, it’s not a plane…”

\--

“You cannot be serious, Seto Kaiba.” Ishizu gazed up at the massive metal creature, trying to keep from laughing aloud. Old habits die hard, I see…

Seto scowled at her. “Is there a problem, Ishizu?”

You expect me to allow you to fly me to a formal party in a Blue Eyes White Dragon Jet. What an appearance we will make. She pressed her lips together to stifle a giggle. “Ah--no, Seto... nothing, nothing at all…”

\--

He flew the ridiculous contraption quite well, she had to admit to herself, pressing her fingers against the rounded glass skull that was the window; the sky visible overhead, tiny silver stars mere pinpricks against the silken deep blue.

It still gave her a thrill--being so high above the world, after half her life living below…

“Nnn?” Seto glanced over at her sharply, taking in for the briefest of moments her evident wonder at her surroundings, the lights shining in her eyes…

“I didn’t say anything…”

He snapped his eyes back to the front, attempted to restore his concentration for both their sakes.

\--

“Kaiba! … and--Ishizu?!” Yugi Moto’s chipper, slightly bewildered voice greeted the pair of them as they crossed the portcullis and into the central courtyard of Pegasus’ castle. The round yellow moon shone brightly against the dark sky; the courtyard walls were quite tall, hung with garlands and trellises; then she saw Yugi--slightly taller since they’d last met, voice slightly deeper, but altogether unchanged, walking towards them, light from the open doors to the foyer giving him a backlit halo.

Yugi’s face registered a mix of delight and amusement at the two of them, for surely they were quite the strange couple--well, he reasoned, Kaiba with anyone would make a strange couple, that’s for sure…

Seto glared at the shorter man as Yugi extended his hand towards him, shaking it reluctantly, politely, then onto Ishizu; her eyes sparkling pleasantly at her former Pharaoh’s host, head bowing in greeting. 

“It’s sure great to see you, Ishizu--and Kaiba, too!” Yugi continued merrily, walking alongside them as they made their way to the foyer of the castle. 

“Yes, well, when Seto invited me to be his guest to this event, I was quite honored just to be considered,” Ishizu replied, a sly edge to her voice. “How have things been?”

“Great--great--” And he beckoned over to a small cluster of people just inside the doors. “Joey! Téa! Tristan--all of you--look who’s here!”

The tall blond in front, looking handsome, if thoroughly out of his depth in a tuxedo, turned his head, grin on his face disappearing as he narrowed his eyes. “Well, if it ain’t Seto Kaiba and--wait, whoa, that’s Ishizu Ishtar?”

“Very well done, Wheeler; you’ve managed to state the obvious,” muttered Seto acidly, prompting a warning glance from Ishizu. Behave, please…

Joey scrunched up his face as he approached them, the rest of the gang in tow. “Yeah, moneybags, ha ha--but what the heck is she doing here with you?”

Ishizu looked down briefly at her shoes and swallowed hard, as Seto refused to dignify Joey’s presence with so much as a snicker. 

Mai Valentine, clad in something violet and satiny that somehow fulfilled the black tie requirement yet looked positively indecent, peeked around Joey, her eyes alight. “Well--hello there, Kaiba--ooh, Ishizu, you look positively marvelous--and the two of you together are adorable to boot!” She strode over to them, passing Joey, thigh-high nylons peeking through the slit in her dress, and latched onto Ishizu’s arm, the owner of which had flushed rather red, as had her date; the rest of Yugi’s friends had surrounded the pair of them, Tristan, Joey, and Téa, clad in blue silk, looking skeptical of this strange pairing that seemed to have arisen out of nowhere, while Yugi, Serenity, shy, wearing something pale pink with a sweetheart neckline, and Mai looked positively chuffed at this turn of events.

Seto scowled at the lot of them and their damned reactions, thinking that upon returning to Kaiba Manor he would kill Mokuba after all. He gritted his teeth, his back straightening sharply; he ought to have predicted this, of course, that the idiots Yugi Moto hung around with would ultimately gawk at him and Ishizu--and oughtn’t he, or Ishizu, for that matter, be insulted at their surprise? It wasn’t as if they were actually dating or anything foolish like that…

Ishizu smiled placidly at Mai, managing somehow to keep her nervousness at this sudden inquisition buried far below the unrippled surface. “I assure you, nothing has changed between us. Seto merely needed a guest to bring to this affair, and I, for one, am happy to have the opportunity to see my old acquaintance Maximillion again; after all, it’s been so long since we spoke…”

Clearly that answer seemed to be good enough for most of them; Yugi turned back to the group and swiped his hand across his neck for good measure. 

Mai, on the other hand, still latched onto Ishizu’s arm, a coy smile setting her features alight. “Yeah, okay, Ishizu, I’ll buy that… for now…” And then she air-kissed Ishizu’s cheeks and strode back over to Joey--they were obviously dating by now, Ishizu reasoned, a genuine smile appearing on her face, bathing her features in a gentle glow.

Such a lovely couple...

Seto noticed the change in her demeanor and nearly pouted. “What’s going on?” What’s making her smile… like that? Like…

He didn’t know if he’d ever seen her look at something with as much quiet joy as she displayed right then, studying the pair of Joey and Mai.

It made a small lump appear in his throat.

A crowd seemed to have gathered further into the foyer--duelists of all stripes, some, like Rex Raptor and Weevil Underwood--those two idiots--Seto recognized, all in formal wear, standing alongside their guests and chatting, awaiting Pegasus’ arrival. 

Ishizu lifted her eyes over to Seto. “Shall we?” 

Seto pasted a scowl he didn’t quite mean on his face, heart skipping a beat at the gentle look still glimmering in her eyes. “I don’t see why not,” he replied, trying to get back on his feet, so to speak; suddenly, a booming, theatrical voice rang out throughout the foyer, its resonance magnified by the arched ceiling--

“Welcome, duelists and guests, welcome!” And then, standing at a gold balcony overlooking the collection of attendees was the man himself--Maximillion Pegasus, clad in his trademark flamboyantly and extravagantly tailored red suit, white hair covering half his face--Ishizu and Seto both instantly thought of the Millenium Eye that had once been a part of him, had once exerted its shadowy will over him, turning desires and hopes into cruelty and ruthlessness…

“I am so pleased that nearly all of my invitees could make it to my party at my humble home…” Humble, my ass, thought Seto, crossing his arms in front of his chest almost protectively, attempting to feel more comfortable in this castle, this place that contained so many dark, confusing memories for him. 

Ishizu noticed his sudden tenseness, the way he paled slightly as Pegasus continued to blather on his welcome speech--something about everyone putting their bags in the adjacent cloakroom, a directive to exit the foyer and proceed up the staircase to the main ballroom, where a delightful, yes, delightful spread and entertainment were waiting for them--and, taking a sharp breath, lifted her arm to brush against his own in a gesture meant to comfort.

Seto reeled at her touch, half wanting to grab her and kiss her right where she stood, half wanting to scream at her to stop touching him, but her hand on his arm was somehow soothing, and so he permitted it, a quiet grunt of assent that only Ishizu could hear issuing from his lips.

\--

The small orchestra, yes, orchestra occupying around one-third of the massive ballroom ceased playing for a moment, something lilting and melodic by Bach, Seto guessed as he and Ishizu stood beside one of the many refreshments tables--quite awkwardly, she had to admit, the two of them pointedly ignoring one another’s presence for fear that acknowledging that presence would lead to nothing but trouble for the both of them, Ishizu with a full flute of champagne in one hand, a small fruit tart in the other, Seto holding nothing, eating nothing, saying nothing, looking for all the world like he would kill the first person who tried to address him. 

Pegasus had tried--to his credit, though, once Seto began giving him the silent treatment, he did not press the matter further and moved on to greet Ishizu, the two of them shaking hands, then him theatrically kissing the back of hers, one visible eye gleaming as he took in the two of them, a quiet smirk disguised as a smile sliding easily onto his lips--Ishizu wanted to blush, because it did not take a Millennium Eye to guess what was turning about in his mind--and then he wished them a delightful evening and made his way over to where Joey was attempting to shove every cake and cookie in his face, Mai blushing, pretending to be more annoyed than she was, her face in her hands, past the point of trying to stop him from looking like a buffoon--she liked that part of him, anyway…

Ishizu watched the exchange between Pegasus, completely unflappable, and Joey, mouth stuffed full with something sweet, Joey’s face turning bright red as Mai giggled, clutching onto her boyfriend’s arm, and smiled again at the sight, almost adoringly, maternally--wistfully? 

I daren’t. Perish the thought. I am no romantic. 

That smile. Seto looked at her looking at the pair of them, their carefree nature towards one another, and gritted his teeth in annoyance. That foolishness will never be me--and good thing, too.

The first thrummings of violins cut through the air, a slow, stately waltz spinning from strings, and as a good number of couples flocked to the center of the room and began to dance, long colorful skirts swishing against the shiny wood floor, the women and men in their finery looking as though they belonged on the top of a cake.

Ishizu watched them, glass still in hand, something she couldn’t quite name hollowing her throat; and then she heard him clear his throat, turned towards him, heard him mutter huskily under his breath: “Do you want to dance, or…” So no one hears him--in case I decline?

His hands itched to touch her, to feel her delicate spine beneath one palm, the other hand holding hers, and so when Ishizu looked at him, surprised, a hint of a blush on her neck, he continued, moving one hand to the small of her back, the soft fabric whispering against increasingly brave fingertips, “Care to join me, Ishizu?”

Ishizu looked up at him, saw something interesting in the way he was looking at her--the way his hair was falling into his eyes, the curve of his lips as he caressed her name, the tiny circle his thumb was outlining on her spine, through the dress, and licked her lips almost subconsciously. “I’d be delighted, Seto,” she replied softly, dropping a hint of something in her voice for him to parse out, meeting his eyes directly as she placed her champagne and fruit tart on the adjacent table.

As the spectators of the dance watched, their mouths dropping open at this sight, of Seto Kaiba, of all people, leading this mysterious guest of his to dance--Seto Kaiba was not the kind of person to dance with just anyone, or even dance at all, frankly--Seto guided Ishizu towards the center of the room; as the pair of them moved and settled into position, several of the couples on the dance floor stopped, wave by wave, until it was just Seto and Ishizu in the center of the room, she realizing the strangeness of the situation and reddening, wishing for all the world that Seto’s every action at this party did not call for surprise, a scene, Seto throwing glares around the room until he found a spot he deemed worthy; then his hand at her back pressed their chests closer together, his other hand skimming along her wrist almost tenderly to grasp hers, her hand to his shoulder, the fine fabric of his jacket crisp beneath her palms, and then they were moving, waltzing in a slow circle to the sweet music as it carried them round and round, until the rest of the room ceased its gawking at the pair of them and continued with whatever they had been doing--be it drinking, eating, talking, dancing. They’d had their fun, it seemed...

Ishizu scarcely felt the floor beneath her feet; so smooth a leader was Seto, as if this came naturally to him as so many other things seemed to--his half-lazy, half-acquired intellect still had not ceased to fascinate her… I suppose he must have been trained as a boy...

“You dance quite well,” Seto murmured, watching her crinkle her forehead in thought as her eyes stared at her own hand on his shoulder, for it was true; she held her own while still following dutifully, though perhaps slightly stiffly, the music flowing through them, the gentle pressing of his hand on her back as he turned the two of them slightly, bit by bit so that Ishizu caught new glimpses of the ballroom from over his shoulder, taking in the nearly thirty-foot tall windows, the red velvet drapes, the endless arrangements of bouquets, countless tables stocked high with desserts, a chocolate fountain in one corner, everything Pegasus had had arranged, exactly as it should be. 

“Thank you.” Ishizu remembered her manners; as the music came to a close, she met his eyes once more and bowed her head, and then as the orchestra started up again Seto pulled her in closer, closer than was standard for the waltz, close enough so that he could have brushed a kiss on her forehead, had he so chosen--fuck. I can’t do this now…

Not now, not now… Seto fidgeted slightly, willing the sudden burst excitement rushing through him to cease, to slow down, to dilute--no avail, no avail--though not entirely unwelcome, so to speak--it was hardly a change in how he thought of her-- though her closeness, her proximity, the softness of her hand in his…

Fuck. Maybe… 

Maybe--

Ishizu sensed the abrupt change in him, his sudden… discomfort? as Seto’s neck behind the bowtie colored slightly. She narrowed her eyes as she considered him, his darkening eyes, the way he was gnawing on his lips, as if he had forgotten himself utterly. What in Ra’s name…?

Seto smirked down at her, saving face, and moved his thumb against the fabric of her back once more in a slow circle, hips nearly against her own, attempting to make his wishes clear-- I need you-- need you alone, dammit-- his mind scrabbling, seeking out in his own mind what little he remembered of the castle’s layout, its architecture...

A shot of lightning licked at Ishizu, something fluttering uncontrollably between her legs, most inappropriately and yet not uninvited, not undesired, surely enough--

Surely it was visible on her face…?

Success. Seto’s eyes glittered as he let his experiment loose into the wild, so to speak. And then his hands left her body, their sudden absence a cold slap; he turned on his heel and made his way from the dance floor to the edge of the room, where he paused for but a moment, looked back at her--and then he was gone, the chattering, nosy masses somehow seeming to have noticed nothing.

She shivered slightly where she stood on the floor, the swirling couples nearly dizzying her as a blush heated her from within, her knees feeling like liquid--

She turned her head carefully, surveying the ballroom and its inhabitants, making sure they were all dancing, drinking or otherwise occupied: no one seemed to have noticed Seto leave only moments earlier. I could follow him out of the room. Would anyone truly notice if I…

The way he looked at me, touched me, just then--like he wanted me to follow-- 

Follow where…?

She strode over to the table where she’d left her glass and dessert, reached for the stemmed flute, lifted it to her mouth, took a sip, and swallowed hard, hardly noticing the sweetness of the drink. Did he really mean what I think…?

It was nearly too much for her to consider; she had to be dreaming that Seto Kaiba, of all people, would be silently egging her on in this way, daring her....

Daring me to what…? The thought was tempting, impossibly so, assuming her guess was right. And yet...

Ishizu imagined his sneer before her eyes, the taunting quip falling from his lips like petals: “Come on, now, Ishizu, you’re not… afraid, are you?”

What is there to be afraid of?

She drained her glass, the effects of the one drink beginning to build, a welcome warmth permeating her chest and stomach, and placed the gold-rimmed flute on the table. 

She lifted her skirts and made a beeline for the tall double doors Seto had passed through only minutes earlier, holding her breath as she crossed the threshold; a ridiculous, useless gesture, she supposed, but somehow it seemed to do the trick: she was not stopped; no one called out to her to speak with her, to ask where she was going, to ask for a dance; she entered the ballroom’s antechamber blessedly unscathed.

Feeling rather like the innocent maiden trapped in an endless castle of mazes, Ishizu marveled at the Versailles-esque decorations as she moved through the room, the gold mouldings and details, the Boucher-esque (or perhaps they were Bouchers; no doubt Pegasus had the money) paintings gracing the walls, their pink, plump ladies hinting at things that were tugging on Ishizu’s own mind right then; and then she saw a small door, barely a foot taller than she, in the corner of the room left slightly ajar--this can be no accident, she reasoned, and, making sure no one had followed her, opened the door onto a small closet, all panelled with fine dark wood, nearly pitch-black, and leaning against the back wall--

“I thought you’d never make it…” Seto tried to hide his pleasure at her having taken his hint, clumsily, amateurishly delivered as it had been; yet he should not have been surprised, he reasoned, for Ishizu was an extraordinarily intelligent and subtle woman…

“So I am correct in assuming you wanted me to follow you?” Ishizu walked up to him, her voice dropping to a velvet whisper, heart in her throat. This was all so very masquerade-esque, this little game he was playing with her right then, this game of glances and implications, of his eyes drinking her in slightly longer than was truly appropriate, past the bounds of colleagues, at the very least--and she intended to give as good as she got.

Seto matched her tone, trying to keep his voice even as she came to within an inch of him; her whisper was so damned appealing, slightly huskier than her normal speaking voice and oh, the way it traveled down his spine. “Yes. That was rather the point, Ishizu.”

“So why did you want me to follow you to--to wherever this is?” She gestured around them to their rather unorthodox surroundings, then swept her eyes over him--his eyes, the ice gone through to sky blue, the way he licked his lips at the sight of her, the slight trembling of his hand--her suspicions were confirmed. Yes. Thank the gods. She turned her eyes back to his and saw something positively intriguing glinting in them.

Something base and almost sinister, had she not known better, not recognized it within herself.

“I think you know why, Ishizu.” And Seto, inwardly praying this would work, dammit, took her wrist in his hand, pulled her closer into him, and pressed his lips against hers.

Something bloomed in his chest as she pulled on his lapel with her free hand, her pulse racing beneath his thumbs; she, first surprised, then pleased; he pulled back to gasp out a breath, a sigh of relief, and felt her scramble, lean forward, attempting to keep their lips joined, for him to stoke the embers that had lain dormant for so long; she pouted and felt his smirk against her lips as he dove back in; hypothesis confirmed, was his last coherent thought as her mouth opened and he tasted… champagne…? is that it? on her tongue, the sweetness that mingled with her heady scent that was all he knew right then, and felt himself nearly come undone. 

“Do you really…?”

Anticipating the rest of his question, aflame and fully coiled, she rose onto tiptoes, lifted her arms around his neck, pulled him in closer, raked her fingers through his hair, clutching tufts of chestnut locks as Seto groaned, groaned sweetly and softly against her lips. I need--I need--fuck--his arms closed around her back, sealing her in his grasp, and he gently rotated them so that she faced the door and he the wall; their eyes met, equally darkened, lips swollen, cheeks warm and reddened, as their breaths calmed slightly, she smiling demurely as she released her grip from his neck, his hair; as Seto watched, his every fiber, every nerve ending nearly screaming for her, to be inside her already, or soon, dammit, her fingers drifted to his belt, hooked themselves around the leather, pulled him in closer to her.

“Did you have much to drink?” A sigh, a question, his tongue sliding against her lower lip. Before this goes any further...

“One glass; I’m fine,” she replied breathlessly, pulling her head away, lowering his bowtie and nibbling softly on his exposed neck. “You?”

“I’m flying us home, remember?” A near growl, an assertion of his prowess in other matters, his pride--

Then it was Ishizu’s turn to groan as her skin shivered, entire body swallowed in gooseflesh, breath coming in pants as he pushed her against the wall, hips pressed against hers hard, pinning her there; at this sudden abrupt motion the door swung closed, engulfing their bodies in pitch-black darkness, and then there was no sight, no sight to be had, and so her other senses compensated; she could hear the roughness, the unevenness of his breathing, the faint, pleasant smell of his cologne, feel the pressure of him against her, his need--hers--burning right there, right there, yes, feel a heated, thick moan permeate the air, neither entirely sure who uttered it.

Then she felt hands on her face, a finger under her chin, tilting it up, then hot breath against her mouth, cheeks, tickling her neck and trailing down her back to where her need lay, simmering, untouched, nearly unbridled. 

“Kiss me, Ishizu.” His voice was hoarse, more hoarse than she expected it to be, more hoarse than he anticipated, and so she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his; his hands lifted from her body momentarily, only to reappear, long fingers almost gentle, to her neck, her shoulders, heat coursing from his hands through her dress, hands gripping her waist; she threw her head back and breathed out heavily as his lips trailed across her cheek, his breath in her ear, gods, his mouth smirking, sliding down her neck as his hands, still trembling slightly with unrestrained want, began to hike up her dress around her waist. Yes--more--kiss me, kiss me, kiss me--

His fingers trailed her inner thighs, taking their sweet time, she whispering unintelligible things, wanting him to hurry, hurry, she felt so wet already; she felt him suck on her neck almost savagely as he reached the cotton panties beneath the gown, stroking her through the fabric between her legs... 

His fingers paused for a moment. “Ishizu…” He was waiting. Waiting for her to say yes, to give him access, to let him feel, touch her, touch her the way he knew she needed to be touched right then, now, yes, please let me, please.

Ishizu nearly wept, her choked voice unlike any music he’d ever heard but wholly more pleasurable in his ears. “Touch me, please, touch me, touch me, gods, please…” She felt his gasp of pleasure shoot through her as his fingers slid beneath her panties, brushing against the slick, tender flesh waiting for him, already damp, like a gift; he rubbed against her gently in slow, torturous circles; as he pressed one finger inside she nearly collapsed against him, because when had Seto Kaiba of all people learned to do this so well--

“Nnn… you’re soaking…” Seto had to fight from groaning too loudly at the feel of her, alerting the whole castle to their whereabouts; god, fuck, everything--softness incarnate, moisture seeping onto his fingers, the incredible tightness of her muscles around his middle finger; his own groin being utterly compromised as it was, erection nearly weeping for release, he knew neither of them would be able to sustain this teasing for much longer. 

Hand sliding from under her panties, he covered her lips with his own to stifle her whine at the lack, the lack of his blessed fingers inside her, oh, inside, fuck--he fumbled with his belt, hands shaking as he pulled the leather out of the belt loops, unbuttoned, unzipped, hissing slightly as she moved her hands to him, stroking a few times to learn the feel of him in her hand, then her lips at his ear: “Fuck me, please--Seto--”

Seto’s eyelids fluttered at the sensations that rewarded his compliance, she holding her dress out of the way with one hand, the other on his shoulder as he moved her panties to one side and pushed into her, oh, fuck--mind blissfully blank for that one gorgeous moment, and then nothing but her, she around him, permeating him even as he buried himself in her, he swallowing the tiny cries that danced from her lips, his tongue pressing into her mouth; she lifted her head, he lowered his head to where the swell of her breasts was threatening to escape that low black neckline, brushing his lips on her collarbone, her neck, the shell of her ear. A shuddering breath: “I’ve wanted--wanted this for so long, Ishizu…”

Ishizu bit back a moan at his admission, because of course, of course, she’d felt it, felt his need, his eyes on her years ago, just why hadn’t they done anything about it then--sparks shot through her skin, back pressing into the wall as he rocked his hips against her, moving inside her, motions almost rough but necessary, something she’d needed all night; the very thought was laughable, as if she hadn’t thought of this since the day they’d met--never mind the people in the ballroom, never mind the location, this was all there was--him, him, the floor beneath her feet, the wall against her back, his hands on either side of her face pressed against the wall for leverage, the fine fabric of his jacket clenched in her fists; nothing else, nothing else in the world except for him, the things he was doing--it wasn’t enough, nothing would ever be enough for for him--for her--

“Ishizu…” His trembling lips moved from her ear to her own as he held his hips against hers, completely pinning her to the wall, legs only just then feeling any strain, because all there was was sensation, this feeling, she being filled, known; he, inside, knowing, understanding; he released a tiny groan from somewhere deep inside his chest, nothing but the pressure of her, her soft lips, her soft moans that he still couldn’t believe he was the cause of, as if she, too, had been waiting, waiting for this, for this unholy union of flesh and lips and sighs ringing out in tandem--

“S-Seto--I’m--” Ishizu gasped against his lips, fingers scrabbling to pull him even closer, because she could feel it, feel the waves lapping, crashing around her ankles, her own heart stuttering, that breathlessness, the sudden point of pressure mounting within her, agony, and as he released a deep, breathy noise she couldn’t even comprehend she had any hand in making, her name like a corrupt prayer dropping from his lips, over and over-- “Ishizu… Ishizu…”--she collapsed, leaned her head against his chest, toes curling, chest full and then expanding, a rush twisting through her from head to toe, and then blessed relief from this endless suffering, the suffering of never enough--a whole new depth to the meaning of the word fulfilled; as he felt her muscles around him tighten, felt her face pressed against his chest, hands pulling tight at his jacket and then, as she broke, her unraveling, that blessed unraveling that meant he had succeeded, he too was pushed over the edge and nearly bit his tongue as he came, came hard and shaking, sweating, blissful, torture, ears delighting in the hoarse moan she emitted, then his lips found hers, quieting her, quieting himself, and then she felt him smile against her lips; she sighed as she felt him pull out, heard him drop to the ground to give his legs a rest, felt him look at her, at her dress all crumpled around her hips, and shivered as a thrill tore through her.

She almost wanted to laugh, to chuckle at how odd this situation was; for although she'd certainly imagined a moment like this, she’d never thought it would come to much--especially under these circumstances: the two of them having stolen away in a hidden closet of sorts in Maximillion Pegasus’ house while hundreds of partygoers mingled only rooms away; Seto broke the cavernous, claustrophobic pitch-black silence first as he cautiously made his way to his feet and adjusted himself, zipper, button, belt--a tired half-smile curled on his lips, a smile Ishizu couldn’t see but could hear in his voice; “Mind if I open the door for some light?--We should make ourselves presentable, hurry back before anyone notices anything…” As if that were even possible, with us being gone for so long…

Fuck that, he wanted to say, and then--your place or mine? Something charming, easygoing, openly flirtatious, even--after all, it wouldn’t be that hard to slip away from the party, back to the jet--would it? 

Ishizu cleared her throat and replied, “Of course, Seto--here, can you find the door handle…?” 

Seto fumbled around for a bit in the darkness, hands sliding along the walls of the cramped space, finding a corner, the slick metal of door hinges, then caught the edge of the door handle and gently pushed the door open, wincing as bright yellow light slitted in through the crack. “Fuck, that’s bright…”

Ishizu squinted against the light as she pulled her panties back into place, smoothed her dress over her hips, ran her fingers through her hair--she hoped she didn’t look as disheveled as she felt--as Seto absolutely did--positively dissolute, he looked, bowtie a knotted rag around his neck, unnatural creases in his jacket, hair a wreck…

“Do I look decent?” At his question, Ishizu bit back a giggle. “Not exactly… here…” and she walked over towards him quietly, settling her hands on his shirt, his jacket, attempting to smooth out the wrinkles; then, as Seto gulped, a blush rising on his neck, Ishizu pulled apart the ruined knot of his bowtie and quickly, neatly re-tied the black sliver of silk, she trying to arrange it to cover what looked like a damned hickey on his neck--ah, that--while he managed to murmur, “where did you learn to tie a bow tie…?”

Ishizu couldn’t resist throwing a sly glance up at him, repeating his cocky, suggestive words from earlier. “There’s quite a lot you don’t know about me, Seto Kaiba.”

Seto pressed his forehead against hers, a groan rising from him at the deliciousness of her implications, her clever wit. “I’m making an executive decision, Ishizu--we’re getting the fuck out of here.” His hands trailed down her waist, curled around her rear, pulled her to him, causing her to squeak quietly in surprise.

She recovered quickly, tilted her head up, brushed her lips to his. “I think that’s a good idea.”

\--

The sky overhead, surrounding them, Ishizu sitting quietly, strapped into her seat, hands folded demurely, innocently in her lap; Seto doing his best to fly the damned thing properly and level-headedly, the barest minimum of his working mind attending to the path of jet as it sliced through endless blue-black--

Something tugged at her, at the corners of her mind. “How did you know about that door, Seto?” 

“Nnn?” He glanced over at her quickly, and wished he hadn’t, for the way she looked, just sitting there, legs crossed, lips pursed, was a cruel distraction in and of itself; “oh, that? Well, when--when Mokuba was taken by Pegasus during the Duelist Kingdom Tournament, I… persuaded the architect to hand over the original plans, in case I needed to attempt a break-in… of course, Pegasus has changed quite a bit in the last five years, but overall, I think I came prepared--don’t you?” A coy edge to his voice.

Ishizu almost wished she hadn’t asked. “Bribery or force?”

Seto turned his eyes back to the window, tutting under his breath sardonically. “Now, now, Ishizu, what do you take me for?”

\--

He slid his hand under her dress, brushing past her knee before settling on her inner thigh, she shivering as if she’d never been touched before, as the black, silent beast sped smoothly back towards her apartment.

\--

“Roland--” How in the hell do I say this?-- “I will call for you tomorrow.”

Was that a smile on his employee’s face? It better not have been--or else I might have to fire you. “Understood, sir.”

And then it was up the steps, giddy, door opening, lips on hers, hands pulling her to him even as she giggled and tried to kick the door shut behind them; she succeeded on the second try, the door slamming only a tad too loudly for the lateness of the hour; he shucking his jacket, she furiously untying his bowtie with adroit, adept fingers; and then he pulled his mouth from hers, tilted his head towards the staircase; “... bedroom?” Please… soon… 

Ishizu whimpered as his fingers found the side zipper to her dress, guided it down as slowly as he could manage; she pulled her arms through the straps and let the garment collapse limply on the floor; her fingers floated to his belt, to his fly, and then she pushed him onto the stuffed reclining chair, nearly knocking the breath cleanly from him-- “no. Here.”

Seto looked back up at her as he unbuttoned his shirt, hair falling in his eyes as he slid it off his shoulders and onto her floor, eyes half-closed and bright as she started to slip off her heels--

“Leave those on.”

\--

Joey turned to Mai, swallowing the last remaining morsel of cake, eyes round and inquisitive as if something were bothering him. “Hey--you know, I haven’t seen ol’ Moneybags or Ishizu around here for a while now…”

Mai smiled to herself, eyes enigmatic, which was lost on the slightly tipsy Joey. “I don’t know, Joey-- they have to be around here somewhere…”

She’d seen the jet take off over an hour ago.


	2. Result

She felt a slight breeze tickle her cheek, then a weight on her back, gentle fingers trailing along her shoulder blades, her spine.

With some effort her eyes flickered open. A smile greeting her.

"Good morning."

She yawned in response, arching her spine like a cat.

A rustle under sheets, cool lips brushing against her forehead. Blue eyes, melting ice.

Still. Soft. This.

Could this be a dream?

She extended her arm, brushing fine chestnut strands out of his face, shivering as his fingers made a lazy circling motion along her back.

Strange dream…

Sunlight streaming in through the window, bathing her white sheets in a glow.

The hum of city traffic outside…

The morning.

This was real.

Him above her, pressing into her needily, urgently, into the mattress, growling filthy things against her throat-

-His hands on her breasts, her thighs cradling his, she on top of him, him lying back in her reclining chair, moving within her-

-The darkness of the closet, her skirt around her hips, held between him and the wall as he drowned out her moans with his lips-

-Desperate and never having enough-

… it was real, gloriously real.

As was the vision lying beside her-in her bed-his legs brushing against hers under crisp sheets, a smile.

Seto…

He had freckles.

Seto Kaiba had freckles. Tiny afterthoughts dotting his nose, minuscule specklings kissing his cheeks in careful clusters.

She wanted to count them all. Kiss every one.

"Good morning," he repeated, lips brushing her ear, palm flattening on her back. His head on her pillow now. Gazing at her like a wonder. Like he never wanted to stop. Like nothing would be enough for him.

She shivered.

"Good morning, Seto." To her own ears her voice sounded blissfully relaxed. Like she'd forgotten what being truly sated felt like-

She rolled onto her side languorously, his hand fitting into the curve of her waist, eyes dropping briefly downwards to take in her body, gliding over her like fingertips, before his eyes settled on her lips.

"Sleep well…?" His eyes flickered towards her own, large, waiting. She could see a hint of stubble forming on his chin.

"Very well, thank you." She saw now, in the direct sunlight, that he had flecks of a burnished gold threaded throughout his hair…

She wound a strand of it between her fingers as his eyes followed her motions almost curiously.

"Mmm…?"

He smoothed his hand along the curve of her rear, making her giggle, the clear sound punctuating the thick low-lying hum of the morning.

She let go of his hair, tracing his eyebrows, then his nose, before outlining his lips with her pointer finger.

Real.

Him.

"Nothing."

She rolled onto her back, allowing his hand to rest upon the space between her hipbones. Reached out, tucked herself under the sheet, swaddling, drawing the fabric up to her chin, then covering her nose and mouth so that her eyes peeked out at him. She blinked twice for effect.

She didn't know why-she felt impossibly free, mischievous, even-to do something like this.

She didn't dare to look under the sheets, to let her hand wander to where she still so wanted to explore.

Not yet…

Seto cracked a tiny smile at her gesture, before removing his hand from her hip and, with one graceful motion, pulling the sheet over both their heads, drowning out the harshness of the light, reducing it to mere background noise.

Ishizu looked.

And blushed-

Of course-

"Did you… sleep well?" she found herself asking, voice studied, overly casual.

"You're so beautiful." In the dim space under the sheets, she caught a flash of white teeth, then her eyes fluttered closed as he shifted, rolled closer, pressing a kiss on waiting lips.

Ishizu found herself clasping her hands together across her belly to prevent herself from reaching for him-temptation-as his tongue slipped along her lower lip.

At a pause, she smiled against his mouth. "That doesn't answer my question."

"Hmm?" She felt his reply more than she heard it.

His hand moved back to her hipbone. Pinky finger extended. Circling. Dangerously close to gathered dark curls…

"How could I not?" His voice was a whisper against her neck. Vibrations twisting through her.

Making her want.

As if a day went by when she didn't…

She smiled seraphically, scooted in closer. His lips moving lower. Lower. Lower-

Her legs spreading to allow his hand access, his fingers navigating.

Slick. Silk. She gasped as he found what he sought.

Then, in one swift motion, lips never leaving her breast, his hand was gone, one thigh-oh--then the other, brushing against her legs. Resting on his arms. Poised above her. Her hips opening for him. Feeling him against her inner thigh.

His wanting her.

A promise.

"Mm…" His voice was husky. Hips rolling. Teasing.

"I could have taken up the whole bed, you know-"

She sighed as his lips, teeth, tongue played with a nipple. Slowly. Torture.

"I could snore… "

Her hand slid between them. Found him. His eyes losing focus for just a moment, breath ragged.

"Please…"

She smiled. Wrapped her legs around his back. Holding him-and then he was inside, uttering a groan against her skin. Music.

Her hands to his shoulders. This-

"Could have made little sounds…"

-It was never enough-and it was too much. What she'd wanted. Having him like this-like it was natural.

"What sort of little sounds?"

Lips on her neck, her collarbone.

He rocked his hips against her. Hard.

"Oh-"

Sparks shimmering inside her. Hot-crawling inside her skin-

Her hands clutched at his shoulders, slid to hold him tight against her, because no matter how close he was it was everything, it was painful-

He chuckled dryly and did it again. "Sounds like that?"

He lowered his head to her ear. Took her lobe in his mouth. Teeth gentle. "Well, I could certainly grow accustomed to that…"

With some effort, her voice dislodged itself from around a series of shallow breaths. "Could you, now?"

"I could." His voice hid a burbling laugh poorly.

"How presumptuous of you. Thinking you'll get to hear it agai-ohh-"

He'd called her bluff, and she was unraveling quickly. Ribbons unfurling, revealing more and more layers, shivering bright from within-and it was him-he was the one doing this to her-him and only him-Seto-

-how strange this was-

"Fuck, you're beautiful-" A melody. A prayer. A sigh, full of everything she needed to hear-endless. Something unknown and knowing in his voice, as if he was trying to reassure himself back into believing-as if he was stunned as well.

Her fingernails left shallow welts on his shoulder muscles as she came.

And he was spent, a fury of kisses raining upon her, each more hungry than the last.

She couldn't help but laugh, bell-like, as he rested his forehead against her own, their breaths melding and synchronizing into one wave. Steady. Together. Cocoon of sheet. A cradle.

A cheeky thought crossing her head as visions of the previous night revisited her. His hands steadying her as she moved atop him. Slowly at first as she remembered the feel of him inside. Quickly when he begged for more. "Where did you get the idea for me to leave my shoes on?"

He pulled out; dropped to her side. Threw back the sheets, chilled air gliding across their flesh. Buried his face in the pillow. "Was it that bad?" Muffled. Nearly petulant.

"No, on the contrary-if it worked for you…" She pressed her body up against his and listened to him breathe. Noticed the blush on his neck.

"How long?"

A rather more serious question.

One he understood nonetheless.

"After Egypt?"

A brief shake of his head, face still hidden in plush white.

"Battle City?"

"Are you asking how long since I've wanted to do this, or…?"

A pregnant pause. As if he had said too much.

Her heart trembled dangerously in her chest.

"Are they so different?"

His fingers clutched at the pillow. Shoulders tense. Waiting.

She smiled again. Leaned forward. Pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, reveling in how he shuddered delicately.

"Well."

He turned to face her. Cheeks pink and fading. "Well?" Voice slightly cracked around the edges.

She allowed her fingers to comb through his hair. Gentle. Soft. Kindred.

"In any case, I'm glad Mokuba called."


End file.
